


Mac'n'Cheese Poisoning

by AdotHann



Series: We Save the World from Supernatural-Bullshit [2]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampires, Blood Drinking, Gen, Thomas Jefferson hates mac'n'cheese, platonic blood drinking, thats a lot of alternate universes, the fact that i need to specify that its platonic is a lil fucked up, vampires hate italy, yeah i know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-09-07
Packaged: 2018-12-24 23:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,648
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12023691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdotHann/pseuds/AdotHann
Summary: "You going to invite me in, or shall I stand here all night?" Laf asked irritably."You know you have a standing invitation." Thomas replied tiredly, but he was smiling."I know," Laf replied, a grin spreading across his face.-(a.k.a. more vampire!Lafayette)





	Mac'n'Cheese Poisoning

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EastofArktos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EastofArktos/gifts).



> because someone actually wanted more of this au?

Thomas had only been home a few hours when the doorbell went. He sighed, though he was smiling, and abandoned his unpacking. Unsurprisingly, he opened the door to find Lafayette standing on his porch. 

"You going to invite me in, or shall I stand here all night?" Laf asked irritably.

"You know you have a standing invitation." Thomas replied tiredly, but he was smiling.

"I know," Laf replied, a grin spreading across his face.

Thomas headed for the fridge and brought out one of the cans of an especially disgusting energy drink that he saved for occasions like this.

Contrary to popular belief, most vampires don't go around knocking over blood banks or robbing hospitals. That shits too closely monitored, and there seems to be something ingrained in their psyche about not letting the world know they exist. Plenty of them are old enough to remember the days when humans openly hunted even the most innocent of vampires like, well, like _monsters_. 

No. Their secrecy is far too precious.

Hypnotism is always an option. It isn't not hard to find a stranger in a club or a dark street and leave them without the slightest clue you were ever there, but Lafayette had always held some disdain for this practice. He'd never mentioned his reasons, but Thomas could think of hundreds. It could have been the excessive energy that hypnotism drained; the fact that, worst come to worst, if Laf were to take too much there'd be no one there to look after the victims once he was done; or, most likely, the lack of consent made him uneasy.

Drained the energy drink can and winced at the abominable taste. It was a small sacrifice to make to keep his blood sugar up.

Laf didn't bring it up immediately, but Thomas could tell he was hungry. There was something subtle in the way he restrained his movements and posture, retreating into the 18th century French etiquette that he had grown up with, as if to mask the blood lust and hunger pangs he was no doubt feeling. There was also something in the way his gaze began to linger on the bare skin of Thomas' neck.

Though he knew he wasn't fooling anyone, Laf never launched straight into it. He always made an effort to actually talk to him before, like he was reaffirming that Thomas was a friend before he was a source of nourishment. Privately Thomas thought it was a little ridiculous, but he appreciated the sentiment. 

"I see you brought back some souvenirs." Lafayette said, donning a shit eating grin as he held up the post card of ' _Adrienne_.'

For a brief moment, regardless of how absurd it seemed, Thomas was absolutely sure that Lafayette had set up that whole situation with that painting, just to fuck with him.

"Oh yeah, I thought that one was brilliant." Thomas said, donning a shit eating grin to match Lafayette's, "It's like the 18th century equivalent of middle school emo." 

"Hilarious." Laf replied dryly. He considered Thomas for a moment, "If you're tired I can go. You can rest, I can wait a day or so."

Thomas rolled his eyes. "I'm fine, and we both know you don't want gaze at people's jugulars any longer than you have to."

Laf smiled gratefully.

Having a vampire feed from you wasn't anything like it was depicted in fiction. There was no intense pain, no orgasmic rush. It was just a slight prick, like a paper cut, and then a slow descent into drowsiness.

Thomas had always thought that Vampire fiction was overrated anyway. All the books were the same; they all fell into the same traps and they all missed the small but significant realities of being friends with a vampire, like the way that Lafayette counted the verities in the cracks on Thomas's ceiling without trying, or how he talked about long ago eras with just a twinge of homesickness.

Vampire bites didn't need to be sexual or painful to be intense. It was the platonic closeness that was important; Lafayette's mouth on his neck, his whole body pressed up against his side so he could count the heartbeats and make sure they were safe, that he hadn't taken too much. It was easy and unmistakable, something that they probably needed from each other just as much as Laf needed blood.

Just when the room had begun to spin and Thomas's own heart beat felt slow and ticklish, Laf pulled away.

Let me get you something to eat Lafayette said and Thomas moaned in horror. Laf meant well, of course, but after a few centuries of not eating human food (as in food that humans eat rather than, say, food made from humans, or their blood,) anyone would lose their sense of taste. 

"Relax," Laf said, rolling his eyes, "I'm not going to _make_ anything. You have, like, pre-packaged snacks somewhere don't you?"

"There's instant mac'n'cheese in the top cupboard." Thomas mumbled, before stumbling over to the sofa.

The top cupboard in Thomas's kitchen was huge. It spanned the length of the entire back wall of the kitchen, hanging ominously over the sideboard, the cooker and the sink. There was a crashing noise and Lafayette began to laugh.

 _Laf laughs,_ Thomas thought humorously through his daze, _like a tongue twister._ Then he wondered exactly what Laf was laughing at. 

"Thomas," Laf said between gasps, though being undead he didn't really need the air, "why was this _entire_ cupboard filled with ma'n'cheese?"

Thomas rolled off the sofa and looked through the doorway into his kitchen. The entire top cupboard had, somehow, been stuffed full of packets of mac'n'cheese, and all of them seemed to have been leaning on the cupboard door for support. 

Of course, the cupboard door was open now.

In the middle of his kitchen floor, half buried in a pile of mac'n'cheese packets, lay the centuries old, aristocratic vampire, crying with laughter. Another packet slid out of the cupboard and hit Laf on the head. Thomas began to laugh too.

"They're from the first apocalypse we prevented," Thomas explained once he had gotten control of his giggles. "There were a lot of zombies and I was pretty sure that this was the end, so I stocked up."

"That was over a year ago." Laf said, dusting stray cheese dust from one of the split packets out of his hair.

"I know." Thomas said mournfully, "I eat mac'n'cheese like daily, and I've still not run out. There are four more crates of them in the basement."

And that set of Laf laughing again. And Laf's laughing set of Thomas's giggles.

Eventually they tidied up the mac'n'cheese (which consists of them spending 10 minutes trying to stuff the packets back into the top cupboard, then Thomas gets out a broom and they just sweep them downstairs into the basement where the other four crates are.) Laf found a box of microwave butter popcorn at the back of the top cupboard, so they snuggle up on the couch to watch Moulin Rouge, (since it was Laf's turn to pick.) If the popcorn tasted a little like cheese dust then Thomas didn't say anything.

They don't always talk about such meaningless stuff. Thomas' favourite times are the rarest ones, when Lafayette will talk about his past or just the past in general.

They'd watched Moulin Rouge before, on one of those days.

Lafayette had studied the screen with interest. "I'd have liked to have been in Paris during the turn of that century." He'd said. "That's the trouble about experiencing history: you never know what you're missing until it's over, and the people who were involved have been dead for fifty years."

Laf caught Thomas's curious expression. "I was in Italy," he said with an easy smile, "worst mistake of my life. Afterlife. If you want to avoid sunlight, crucifixes, garlic and mirrors, Italy is _not_ the country to go to."

"Mirrors?" Thomas asked. He understood the rest quite well, but not that. 

"Do you have any idea how vain Italian men are?" Laf asked with a quirked eyebrow, and Thomas chuckled.

Suddenly it was one of those precious, simple moments where Lafayette didn't seem to mind talking about his past. Thomas took his chance. "Were there any parts of history you didn't miss entirely?"

"I used to dance with Marie Antoinette." Laf said with a shit eating grin. Thomas gawped at him. "Dance might have been a bit of a strong word for it. She knew I couldn't dance for shit, but in those days you did not turn down a lady when she asked you to dance. She was teasing me, of course."

He had that odd, faraway look in his eyes that Thomas rarely glimpsed, but he was smiling fondly. Distantly, Thomas wondered how the hell people could claim that vampires were soulless.

But today isn't one of those times. Today there's a new post card stuck to Thomas's fridge, and Laf feels a little more distant than normal. Despite his joking tone earlier, Thomas wondered whether or not bringing back that postcard was a good idea.

On the screen, Satine makes her entrance.

Thomas noticed the scar on Laf's chest. He'd seen it before, of course, but now there was a new context to it. An ancient burn mark about the size of his thumb, in the shape of an ornate cross. He'd seen it before, of course, but now it looked different - like he was seeing it in a new light, with new context.

He thought of the painting again, of the silver cross around _Adrienne's_ neck, as he traced the scar absentmindedly. Laf didn't seem to mind, but Thomas knew better than to ask. 

"Can you die of mac'n'cheese poisoning?"  Laf asked distantly.

"You're absolutely batty, you know that?" Thomas said affectionately, and Lafayette snorted.

**Author's Note:**

> The answer is yes! Almost all boxed mac n cheese contains chemicals that, if you were to eat 100kg of this crap in one sitting, would be toxic enough to kill you. You CAN die of mac n cheese poisoning!  
> Anyway, please leave comments. They make my day :)


End file.
